Crankyville is a smallish hamlet divided in two by a busy road for those who work in the north and live in the south. On my side of the busy road is a ramshackle shopping strip with a few professional suites, a mixed business, café and cake place, an empty shell where the greengrocer used to be, an absurd number of real estate agencies and a bakery that’s expanded to fill two shopfronts.
This is a good bakery with a pastry chef who makes a custard tart worth selling an organ for. Sorry, was a good bakery. I got the shits up when a bloody huge-arsed, chrome-accessorised, steam-frothing monstrosity of a coffee machine was installed. It takes fucking half the day now to buy a loaf of bread because as soon as one person wants a chai latte with skinny milk and just a bit of chocolate, no not that much can you make it again, the queue for the daily bread is 14 miles long.
I cracked a sad and meandered into the mixed business to buy the newspaper and a loaf of bread because the shop is stocked with the bakery’s loaves. Bugger me dead, the new owners have plonked a shiny red enamel and metal coffee machine next to the cash register. It’s a fucking milk bar, sell milk and papers and a pre-made sandwich if you must, but can I go somewhere without having to wait for the sole employee to labour over a tray of flat whites for the local tradies on their way to a job?
Today a new bakery has opened amid gossip about how the owners will compete with the place across the road. I got a tad excited when I saw a Vietnamese couple tizzing the place up because my greedy little brain conjured thoughts of racks and racks of tantalising sweet buns and French-inspired pastries. I went in this morning and, nup, the usual white and wholemeal bread and a fucking brown and chrome coffee machine sitting next to the cash register. I gave up waiting for the customer in front of me to give a blow-by-blow monologue on how she wanted her macchifuckingato made. The owners will just have to get used to the locals screaming and running away in frustration.
Buy a coffee machine, employ more staff. I’m hungry.